Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Bubblegum Avatar #2 – "Born to be Killed" ❯ Prologue - "Here we go again...." ( Prologue )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Prologue - “Here we go again....”

Time line: C03-R03-A02- I37-G
Location In timeline: MegaTokyo, Japan
Time: Late Spring, 2032AD

The building was a five story converted warehouse, containing a bookstore, music store and a coffee shop sitting on the corner of Koukai and Twenty-Third Street, usually a very busy intersection. But at this time of the morning, traffic was light, so Linna Yamazaki didn’t have any problem driving into the small private parking lot located around the back of the building.

She got out of her van and stretched slowly, letting her gaze travel up the face of the warehouse to the top floor. She glanced at her watch, smiled and retrieved a small duffle bag from the back of the van. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she walked towards a heavy-looking steel door set in the stone wall. There was a small keypad next to the door, and after a quick glance around, she punched in a series of numbers, waited three seconds, then punched in another series. As soon as the last number was punched in, the door opened with a quiet ‘snap’, and Linna slipped inside.

The garage was large and mostly dark, and it took several seconds for her eyes to adjust to it. There was a sleek black sports car sitting there, as was a big black motorcycle. Several empty crates were scattered across the large garage.

As she looked around, a shadow loped out of the darkness towards her. It stopped about two meters from Linna and stood there. It looked like a large German Shepard, but it was actually a K-9 security boomer.

Linna didn’t like this part of Craig’s security system, but Craig had assured them all that a K-9 had never gone berserk. He had four of the psudo-dogs, each named after a World War Two General. So far, they had been loyal and dutiful, but they still unnerved Linna.

She held out her hand and the boomer approached slowly and sniffed her hand. Linna could almost see the boomer’s brain working as it compared Linna’s scent with the ones stored in it’s memory banks, cross-referenced with Linna’s appearance, and decided that both matched. It stepped back and looked at her expectantly.

“I suppose you want me to say something?”

The dog’s eyes flashed red for a brief second, as the last part of the identification was confirmed, then the dog gave a bark of joy and came back over to her and nuzzled her hand. Almost automatically, Linna scratched its head. The artificial dog closed its eyes in pleasure.

“Is Craig in?” she asked the dog rhetorically.

The dog, she could see the name PATTON had been engraved on the steel collar around it neck, opened his eyes and looked up at her. Slowly, it nodded its head once.

Linna covered her surprise quickly. “You can understand me?”

Again, the dog nodded once.

“Can you speak? I mean, can you speak any human languages?”

The dog hesitated, then shook his head side to side once.

“So, you can understand me, but you cannot speak, right?”

Patton nodded again.

“That’s interesting,” Linna murmured. “All right, is Craig still asleep?”

The dog waited a second, then nodded again.

“All right, let’s go wake him up.”

Patton nodded yet again and they both walked towards the elevator. As they did so, another German Shepard came out of the darkness and joined them. Linna noticed that this K-9's collar had the name ROMMEL inscribed on it. Linna didn’t know if she should be impressed or scared of the boomer’s tactics. “I suppose if I was an intruder, I would be in trouble right now?”

Rommel and Patton looked at each other, then up at Linna and nodded once.

“You’re beginning to think like Craig,” Linna muttered. “And I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

*****

As the elevator rose, Linna thought over that last several days. It had been nearly a week since the battle at Aqua City, and in the aftermath, things had been quiet for the Knight Sabers. Life had drifted back to what passed as normal for the members, including for their newest member.

Which meant Craig had gone back to being a recluse again. In part, this was his natural disposition, but also because he had managed to anger Brian J. Mason, arguably one of the most powerful men in the city. A chance meeting with Mason in a restaurant had gone from a verbal confrontation to a one sided war of nasty stunts and outrageous tricks that had Mason looking for Craig under the name ‘Bert Van Vliet.’

The resulting search had forced Craig to stay off the street as himself. Instead, he was building a couple of false identities which he would go out on the street as. Priss had told Linna about the one identity the singer had seen – an information broker by the name of Johansson. She had also told Linna about the times Craig had crossed paths with Leon, though Priss expression gave the impression that Craig was telling Leon something she didn’t like.

The reason why Linna was here started with a phone call from Sylia. “I want you to start the regular workouts with Craig again,” the leader of the Knight Sabers had said. “Since he doesn’t leave his home for much of anything except training at Raven’s and his forays as Johansson, I don’t want him to lose his edge in the meanwhile.”

After some mild objections, Linna had agreed to start the training sessions again. That why she was here, at seven o’clock in the morning, unannounced, ready to start.

The elevator stopped and Linna opened the doors. She stepped out, trailed by Rommel and Patton, into a small alcove. To her left, there was a large, mostly bare room. There was a coatrack in the right and corner of the room, framed on each wall by a window.

She walked into the room, used as a workout area by Craig. There was a punching bag in one corner, and the floor was covered with thick mats. The walls were solid red brick, plain with the exception of a dartboard with a well punctured picture of Brian Mason covering most of the dartboard’s surface.

As she walked towards the center of the room, two more German Shepards trotted out of the living area of the apartment. They looked at the first two K-9s and something passed between them. By unspoken agreement, the two new dogs came over and sat down in front of Linna. She reached out and scratched their heads, to which the dogs closed their eyes in pleasure.

A sound like a low buzzsaw made Linna stop scratching heads and look up. “What’s that?” she said softly.

The dogs looked in the direction of the sound then back at Linna. A low hiss followed the buzzsaw then the buzzsaw started again. “Is that Craig?” Linna asked.

As one, the four K-9s nodded. Linna took several steps towards a doorway framed in thick timbers. There was little light, but Linna’s eyes adjusted quickly. The entire floor was wide open, running almost the entire length of the building, divided up into areas by low walls, whose brickwork was more uniform in color than the original walls. The ceiling was lower then the in the workout area, and tall and narrow windows were spaced out along the longer sides of the room, like archers slits in old castles. A pair of larger windows were placed in the far wall, overlooking a raised floor that occupied the center of the same wall. In the far left corner, a spiral staircase lead upward to the roof, while to the right of the raised area, two new brick walls joined to form another, smaller room in that corner. A large free standing, stone fireplace stood in the middle of the space.
She stepped into the room, the dogs following her in silence. To Linna’s immediate right, there was a combination office and library, with half a dozen floor to ceiling bookcases against the support walls. Next to that was a living area, complete with chairs, sofas, tables and a large screen TV. The pictures on the walls were a mix of old movie posters and large lithographs. A dining room was to Linna’s immediate left, and next to that was a large open kitchen that sat, opposite the living area. Beyond the fireplace, there was a raised area against the far wall, with a bed and other bedroom furniture. A door in the corner between the kitchen and bedroom lead to the bathroom.

Linna noticed a man-sized lump under the bedcovers that was making the awful noise she was hearing. She walked carefully towards the sound, the dogs still following her.

By the time she reached the platform, she saw an arm sticking out from under the covers. When she reached the foot of the bed, she could see a head on the pillow. The sole occupant lying on his right side, mouth open, eyes close, and snoring. He was about as tall as she was, but broader, with short dark hair, a high forehead, a small nose and narrow chin. Linna winced as the inhale of air now sounded like water going into a pipe, before exhaling with a sound like a leaking air hose. He’s definitely not a sleeping beauty, she thought to herself wryly.

She still wasn’t sure what to make of Craig. The explanation that Sylia and Priss had given her and Nene had been fantastic. Had it been someone else besides Sylia who had told this story about a supernatural being and Craig being from another dimension, Linna wouldn’t have believed it. But Sylia did not make it a habit of spinning tall tales, and with Priss confirming the story, it left Linna little choice but to accept it.

After the second snore cycle, Linna sighed, reached down, grabbed the sleeping man by his shoulder and shook him hard. After a few grunts, snorts and moans, Craig’s brown eyes opened slowly.

“What?” he muttered in English.

“Time to get up,” Linna said, staring down at him.

Craig looked up at her, bleary eyed. “What are you doing here?” he asked in a puzzled tone. “Or am I dreaming again?”

“You’re not dreaming.”

“Then I’m having a nightmare?”

Linna punched him hard in the arm. He yelped and his eyes opened all the way. “Yoew! That hurt!” he said, rubbing his arm.

“Good! Now get up!”
He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Linna noted he was wearing blue pajamas. “What are you doing here?” he asked in Japanese. He glanced at the clock on the table next to the bed. “Especially at this ungodly time of the morning?”

“Ungodly? It’s seven o’clock in the morning!”

Craig looked at her blearily. “To me, that’s ungodly. How in the hell is a human being suppose to do any work before eleven o’clock?”

“Has anyone told you that the early bird catches the worm?”

“Sure, but I hate eating worms for breakfast.” He peered at her. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Linna smiled. “We’re starting your training sessions again.”

“Who’s ‘we’, Kemsabe?”

“All right, Sylia told me to start up you training sessions.”

“Oh. That’s different.” He wiped his eyes again. “I suppose I couldn’t bribe you for a little more sleep?”

“Nope.”

Craig sighed. “All right. Give me a few minutes to wake up completely and get some workout clothes on, and I’ll meet you out in the training area.”

Linna smile broadened. “You have five minutes.”

“Give me ten, and I’ll make breakfast for both of us afterwards, deal?”

“Deal.”

*****

GENOM Tower dominated the city’s skyline the same way Mount Vesuvius use to dominated Pompeii. It stood there, both as a silent threat and a beacon of power to everyone in the city. Some smart-alec had once said, “Without GENOM, Tokyo will still be a backwater little city.” That a third of the city’s population either work for GENOM directly or a subsidiary give this one-liner more then a bit of truth.

The number of people that worked in the tower was larger then the population of a medium-sized city. In some ways, it was a city. It had its own power generators, security force, stores, living quarters and leadership. Most visible was the Chairman and CEO of GENOM, Quincy, but there were others who held power inside the corporation, people who were ready to move up the corporate ladder.

One of those people was Brian J. Mason, Special Assistant to the Chairman. A ruthless man by nature, he was use to getting his own way. Those he couldn’t crush by use of his power, he killed with a savage ruthlessness. He had prided himself on letting nothing get in his way of doing his job and preparing himself to seize power at the right moment. And no one had gotten in his way....

...until now.

There were actually two people who were preying on Mason’s mind. He didn’t show it as he stood in his private elevator as it rose up towards his office inside the Tower, but his thoughts were centered on these two.

One person was the head of the Knight Sabers. That person and the group she lead were interfering with his plans. He had suspicions about the White Saber being Sylia Stingray, but he couldn’t move against her yet, not until he identified the others in her group and he had more then suspicions to present the Chairman.

The second person....

Mason ground his teeth in frustration. Damn that man! He though savagely. When I find him, he is dead! Dead!

The second person was more then a simple annoyance – he had become a thorn in Mason’s side. This irritating worm had told him his name was Bert Van Vliet, but an extensive search of GENOM’s data banks had shown the name was probably false. Largo had told him that ‘Bert Van Vliet’ was the name of a member of the Knight Sabers from Largo’s dimension, even though the description of this person didn’t match the one Largo had known. A challenger from another dimension, the rebuilt superboomer had told Mason, sent to stop Largo from taking his revenge on the Knight Sabers of this dimension

All Mason know for sure that this ‘Avatar’, as Largo had called him, was making him looking like a laughingstock to the rest of the company. And this amusement wasn’t limited to the lower ranks either - reports had reached him that both the Chairman and Madigan had been amused at this Van Vliet’s reprogramming of several maintenance boomers to redecorate Mason’s office. It had taken an entire day to reverse the changes that had been made, and despite his best efforts, several pieces of his office furniture had been incinerated before he could reclaim them.

What was even more aggravating to him was the lost of the data on his office computer’s hard drives. The data had been lost when the hard drives were corrupted beyond any hope of recovery. It had taken another two days to reclaim all the data from GENOM’s data banks, and two more after that to recover the data regarding Mason’s personal plans. The best guess he could come up with that this little stunt was going to set his timetable back at least two weeks, maybe more.

The elevator doors open and Mason stalked out into the hall. Just thinking about his humiliation made him tremble with anger, and those who saw him these days knew better then to get in his way. There was no other choice now: he had to find this man and kill him before he interfered any more with project Lazarus or any of other plans Mason was working on. The fact the man had gone to ground so completely didn’t help his anger any.

He saw no one in the hall as he stalked towards his office, either by accident or design, so the next person that spoke to him was his boomer secretary when he entered the his outer office.

“Good morning, Mr. Mason,” the secretary said in the polite cheerfulness that all boomers of her type were programmed with.

Mason glared at her, resisting the urge to slap her. The secretary disregarded the look on his face and continued. “The Chairman has asked that you meet with him at ten-thirty to discuss the District Three development plans, Doctor Ming is requesting you approval for the new systems for Project Lazarus, and your meeting with the president of GEN-Tech is set for three o’clock. Mr. Largo is waiting in your office, as you requested.”

Mason, his thoughts still simmering over his problem, suddenly snapped his head up to look at her. “What did you say?” he hissed, his face dark.

“I said that the Chairman has asked that you –“

”Not that! Who is in my office?”

“Mr. Largo.”

“Who gave him permission to go into my office?”

“He said you did, Sir.”

“I gave him no such permission!”

The secretary looked concerned. “I’m sorry sir, but –“

Mason turned and strode towards his office door, ignoring the secretary’s explanation. He reached the door, savagely twisted the knob and shoved the door open. He stood in the doorway, glaring at the office’s only occupant. “What are you doing here?” he asked icily.

The tall figure turned from the window and looked at him. “Good morning Mr. Mason,” he said in a rich, pleasant tone. “I see you redecorated your office. Very nice, especially considering how it looked before.”

Mason glared at him. Largo was taller then him by several centimeters and broader in the shoulders. He wasn’t as massive as a BU-55 in human disguise, but there was an unspoken air of authority around the rebuilt boomer that set Mason’s teeth on edge. At his insistence, his facial features on his new body were very similar to the ones from his previous body He had expressed a preference for dark suits and was wearing one now.

Mason stepped into the office and slammed the door behind him. “Why are you in my office?” he asked in a flat, dead voice. “Where are the Boomers assigned to escort you?”

“Full of questions today, aren’t we?”

“Answer my questions!”

Largo shrugged. “Very well. I am here to discuss several matters with you that might affect your future with GENOM. As for my...’bodyguards’, I told them they weren’t needed right now.”

“What happened to them?”

“I sent them away.”

“On who’s authority?”

“Yours of course. We have some matters that we need to discuss that cannot be allowed to reach the ears of the Old Man. Don’t think for a moment that those Boomers’ sole purpose was to guard me. The Old Man is already suspicious. Let’s not give him anything else to think about, hmmm?”

“I don’t have time for your prattling.”

Largo’s face became hard and cold. “Make time, Mr. Mason,” he said, his voice like a glacier. “Or do you want the 99CX1 project to fail like the Aqua City plan?”

Mason looked shocked for a spilt second, but recovered quickly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come, Mr. Mason. Remember who you are talking to. If the BU-99CX1 Project existed in my dimension, it exists here. I suppose the failure to retrieve the black box has delayed the completion of the project?”

“Two months,” Mason replied, deciding that denying the project’s existence wasn’t worth pursuing.

Largo nodded. “At least the plans for the black box were salvaged from USSD before this.”

Mason didn’t answer until he strode over to his desk, his gaze still focused on Largo. “Yes, we are fortunate. Why do you bring up that project?”

“I have come to ask you a favor.”

“What?”

“I want to be involved in the project.”

“Why?”

Largo smiled. “Assuming that events occur here in the same order as they did in my dimension, then this project will be the next major clash GENOM has with the Knight Sabers.”

“You don’t think I can handle it?”

“I never said that. I know what happened last time, and I can try and change things so it doesn’t happen again.”

Mason stared at Largo, looking for signs of an ulterior motive. After a few seconds, he said. “I won’t give you control of the project, but I will allow you limited access as a special security consultant.”

“That is acceptable.”

“I also want to see any security changes you recommend before you go ahead with them.”

“Of course.”

“What else?” Mason asked and he moved around to his chair and pulled it out from under his desk.

“I want to take over the search for this Bert Van Vliet.”

Mason immediately went on guard. “Why?”

“I have been assigned to you for little over a week,” Largo said. He turned back to the window. “In that time, I can see that you have become obsessed with this man, even to the point that it has replaced your obsession with the Knight Sabers.”
“Van Vliet is-“

”Not his real name,” Largo finished. “And to be honest, he is my problem to begin with and will always be mine. I am the reason he was brought here. He is here expressly to stop me, so I must find him and stop him first.”

“How will you do it?”

“I will find a way. Should I find him, do I have your permission to dispose of him?”

No,” Mason said slowly as he sunk into his chair. “I want to be –“

A sound like someone loudly passing gas interrupted him. Mason shot to his feet as if he had been bit and even Largo looked surprised. Mason spun and snatch something from the seat of his chair. He held it up, anger making his face red.

Largo frowned. “What is it?”

Mason flung it at Largo. The boomer grabbed it and looked at it. It was a pillow of some type, the same color and texture as Mason’s chair, but when Largo’s hand squeezed it, the same disgusting sound that they heard a few seconds before hissed from it. On it, in large white, block letters, were the words MASON’S BRAIN. A small tag attached to the pillow said “Whoopee Cushion - product of Funtime Novelties, a subsidiary of GENOM corporation.” There was a folded piece of paper taped to the pillow with a small piece of tape. Largo removed the paper and unfolded it. He scanned the note and looked at the still furious Mason.

“I see that you have not solved all the problems yet,” Largo said with mild amusement.

“What do you mean?” Mason half-shouted at him.

Largo walked over to the desk and held the note out to Mason. The special assistant snatched it from his grasp and read it.

Hey Snookie,

I tried to find a scale model of your brain, but this was the closest I could find to it. Sorry I couldn’t deliver it in person, but I’m allergic to being killed by the big blue meanies you keep as pets. Keep me in mind and try not to have a stroke in the meanwhile.

Ciao,
B.V.V.

Mason’s face became even redder. “I want him dead,” he said slowly and carefully. “I don’t care how or where, I want him located and killed. I want his head delivered to me on a silver platter. You have one month. Now get out and start doing something!”

“Of course,” Largo said calmly. “May I access reasonable resources for this project?”

“Whatever you need.”